


one day (someday)

by Lilaciliraya



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Bullying, Child Neglect, Childhood, Emotional Hurt, Episode: s02e15 Revelations, Episode: s04e07 Memoriam, Gen, Growing Up, Hurt Spencer Reid, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Las Vegas, POV Spencer Reid, Past Drug Use, Reflection, Schizophrenia, as always, i guess, just diana, um
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-24 20:22:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14961549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilaciliraya/pseuds/Lilaciliraya
Summary: the constant taunts and fists and boots slam into him like a drum beat- the beat of his heart- thump thump thump(and then he goes home and sometimes his mother remembers his name.)he’s alive but maybe he doesn’t want to be.(william william william)spencer reid: the great disappearing act. he learns how to work for it. tuck your shoulders in close and duck your head. walk slowly but not too slow, blend in. he tries to blend in but he sticks out like a sore thumb.





	one day (someday)

**Author's Note:**

> pretty random stuff.. just sat down and wrote it..

when spencer goes to school every day it’s like nobody ever sees him. like he’s invisible. 

 

and then he goes home and sometimes his mother remembers his name.

 

sometimes she calls him william. and sometimes spencer is so desperate for reassurance that he really exists that he plays along and he drags himself into bed with her and she holds him. he has to bury his face in the pillow so she doesn’t see that he is crying but she rubs his shoulders and tells him that she loves him so much and some days he needs that. 

 

he’s okay.

 

when parent teacher conferences come he has to make sure she’s living in the right reality. he  gets her out of bed and combs her hair and picks out some nice clothes and explains to her what’s going on as many times as she needs him to. and he puts on a smile and pretends that everything at home is great and he makes sure that nobody can see past their front door when he guides her into the school building and 

 

and some nights he doesn’t bother going home because he can’t stand it.

 

(it isn’t real; it never is)

 

tommy sits behind him in english and on tuesdays he kicks the back of spencer’s chair repeatedly and spencer acts like he doesn’t notice because he doesn’t want him to stop. because sometimes that’s the best he gets. because nobody would kick an empty chair, would they? 

 

but then they tie him to the goal post and everybody is looking and he wonders if he was asking for too much. so maybe he should be happy that he’s invisible from now on. 

 

he doesn’t disappear. now they remember him. and they spot him in the hallways and it’s open season, apparently. and the constant taunts and fists and boots slam into him like a drum beat- the beat of his heart- thump thump thump

 

he’s alive but maybe he doesn’t want to be.

 

(william william william)

 

at least when they call him a fag they’re talking to spencer.

 

he learns not to be selfish because when you ask for more you don’t always get what you want. he knows that now- at least he’s learning. because he sits in class and it all seems superficial. he knows it all already and they never go any deeper.

 

so he reads more but then when he goes back to school all they teach him is common sense so he doesn’t bother talking to his teachers because bubble after bubble he fills in pointless answers and they don’t mean anything.

 

he feels hollow. like he’s just surface details, too. this mask of- of- 

 

spencer reid: the great disappearing act. now he learns how to work for it. tuck your shoulders in close and duck your head. walk slowly but not too slow, blend in. he tries to blend in but he sticks out like a sore thumb.

 

william i missed you so much. come here, honey, come on, let me hold you. she holds him and he pushes his head into her neck instead- pushes and pushes. one of these days he’ll suffocate on all of the empty space around him. 

 

he doesn’t ask for anything anymore. all he needs is himself. they push him into lockers, to the floor, hard down onto the concrete. and he wipes off the bruises and the blood and the tears and stands back up. he keeps his mouth shut. five seconds is all he needs to erase all traces of his presence. he’ll get better, he’ll keep working. 

 

spencer dreams of open fields and empty cottages and blue skies. one of these days he’ll have nothing but himself and that will be okay. 

 

there’s an alley downtown that nobody dares to enter and he sits with his back against the concrete wall and digs his spine into the rough edges. maybe they’ll sand off all of his sharp points and he’ll be left smooth and soft and kind. he tries not to get angry because when he’s angry he wants to demand more. he knows how that turns out.

 

someday he’ll get out of here, he knows it.

 

but in the meantime this is all he has and it’s enough. it is.

 

he sits in the alley and people pass him by like he doesn’t even matter but one day he will; he can feel it in his aching bones and in his too-tight skin: he will. 

 

his mother doesn’t recognize him today, not as anything. and she yells at him to get out get out get out. so he goes. five seconds flat. it echoes in his mind and he can feel it like a physical sensation-

 

it’s like when you get a knot in your throat, when you’re about to cry. and how it hurts when you try to breathe. It’s so hard to keep breathing but you have to do it. and then when he thinks about all the times she looked at him and saw someone else it makes it easier. how does that make sense? it’s like he’s relieved of this pressure, all these expectations, like it doesn’t matter because in the end this is for the best.

 

when she doesn’t know him he’s allowed to exist without this weight on his shoulders because- he was supposed to believe that someone could really love him. 

 

he shouldn’t feel lighter but he does.

 

he’s sorry. most of the time he’s sorry.

 

but sometimes he isn’t and he sucks in greedy breath after breath like his head is breaking the surface of water. but that’s just a metaphor. he’s really breaking out of the vacuum around him for a split second of relief.

 

then it’s back to william and little genius spencer reid and stolen hugs that are meant for someone else and rough hands that are meant just for him. 

 

he isn’t ungrateful but he has dreams that he’ll make a better world for himself.

 

one day. someday. 

 

soon?

 

in his dreams his field grows yellow hyacinths for the dirty tinged jealousy that sits in the pit of his stomach. bundles of envy that he can’t escape. 

 

he sits in the alley and wishes somebody would come a little closer a little closer a little closer to his cloud of yellow smoke but they shouldn’t. everything around him is sour and messy. he always wants too much.

 

he wants someone to tell him that he’s good. that he’s doing the best he can; he wants it and he shouldn’t but he does. he wants it so bad sometimes his fingers shake and he can’t stop it. he always wants and wants and wants so much. 

 

sometimes he thinks that they know. that they can see all his broken shards sticking out of him and it makes him sick. but he’ll get better. and he’ll do good, he’ll give it back somehow, make it up to the world. he promises. and maybe-

 

(maybe if he keeps his promise things will get better.)

 

he curls his toes against the bottom of his converse and pulls his knees to his chest. the alley is dark and filthy and devoid of life. he blends right in. 

 

he lives on autopilot. he commits his mother. she has more good days, now. he can’t face her and he’s sorry-

 

(is he?)

 

jason gideon gives a talk on profiling. he wants-

 

(years later he remembers that he always wants too much)

 

tobias reminds him.

 

they all remind him. he tries to be forgiving because if he can’t be then what hope is there left for him?

 

(he keeps sanding his edges away.)

 

he remembers riley jenkins and goes to see his father, wraps his arms around his middle and drops his shoulders in toward his chest. 

 

(william william william)

 

and his parents come to the station and he wants desperately for there to be a reason.

 

(but it’s just him)

 

he goes back to the alley and there’s a gold coin burning a hole in his pocket even if it is telling the truth. tears drip slowly down his face and he doesn’t try to stop them because he knows nothing could. and he doesn’t try to rush t hem because they don’t answer to logic. he lets them be, because he has learned. and the trails of moisture they leave in their wake freeze cracks into his skin and he can feel it, how all of his masks are breaking apart. 

 

he has seen the void, and it sees him in return. it asks for room to settle in and grow but there is nothing left. so room must be made. he can’t make sense of it anymore. 

 

one day. someday.

 

soon? 

 

(he wants and he wants and he wants)

 

he gets what he deserves.

 

(right?)


End file.
